


Leverage

by BreakfastTea



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Abduction, Angst, Creepy Murdoc (MacGyver TV 2016), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Multiple, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:07:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26070892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastTea/pseuds/BreakfastTea
Summary: Someone wants Mac to pay for the sins of his father, and they've got Murdoc on their payroll to see that it happens.
Comments: 48
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This idea came to me after I was reading up on Houdini. Some of the stuff that guy used to do is literally the stuff of my nightmares. I was gonna go with a buried alive fic, but it took a turn when I remembered Houdini used to have an escape act featuring a milk can full of water and aaaaaaaargh! Nightmares. Actual nightmares. 
> 
> This is set really early on in S3.

The coffee shop, all industrial chic, exposed walls and metal fixtures, was quiet. The early morning rush had already passed and it was too early for the real lunch crowd. Mac and Bozer were there because jetlag had screwed with their appetites and their body clocks.

Mac nursed his second latte of the day. As much as he loved his job and the places he got to see, he’d yet to find a way to really fully cope with the jetlag. They’d been in Romania, followed by India, then a pitstop in the UK, before they’d finally returned home. The hunt for Murdoc, for Jill’s murderer, wasn’t going well. Mac hated to take a break, but he also knew the team needed some downtime if they were to be effective. Matty had taken them off rotation for a full week. Mac intended to make the most of it. Just as soon as the worst of the jetlag passed. Right now, he existed in some weird null space where the laws of time didn’t fully apply.

Murdoc was still out there, and he had to be stopped. He had to pay for his crimes.

“You seriously telling me you haven’t thought up a drug that could overcome jetlag?” Bozer asked, eyeing his empty espresso cup.

“There are plenty of drugs you could try.” Mac ran through a list in his head. “Unfortunately, some are prescription only, several are illegal, and there’s no better cure than sleep and slow readjustment,” Mac said. He sipped his latte. “And caffeine.”

“Damn,” Bozer moaned. “That just seems wrong. You realize you’d be an actual billionaire if you did cook something up. Especially if you let me take care of the marketing.”

“We can dream, Boze,” Mac said. “We can dream.”

The barista brought their food over; Southern style biscuits and gravy for Mac, pancakes for Bozer.

“Jack has a lot to answer for,” Bozer said, pointing at Mac’s breakfast.

Mac shrugged.

Not the response Bozer expected. “Everything okay between you guys?”

Mac made a face. “I’m not sure.” He poked his food. Then he shook himself. “Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.”

“You don’t know why he’s upset?” Bozer asked.

Mac shrugged.

Bozer crushed the urge to drag it out of him. Mac wasn’t the most talkative person on the planet, especially where his emotions were concerned, but he definitely knew more than he was letting on.

“Anyway,” Mac said, filling the silence Bozer purposefully left behind. “You know Jack. He can only stay mad at me for so long.”

“Mac, no one on Earth can stay mad at you for long. It’s this look you have.” Bozer did his best approximation of Mac’s sad face.

“I do not look like that!” Mac protested.

“Dude, say it, don’t spray it,” Bozer said.

Hand over his mouth, Mac reached for his latte. “Sorry. But I do not.”

Bozer smirked and dug into his pancakes. Mac could deny it all he liked, but he absolutely did have a look. The Look, actually. Bozer had never met anyone over the age of twelve who could pull off such a look of doe-eyed innocence. And the fact that Mac seemed totally unaware of it just made it even more adorable.

They ate their breakfast in companionable quiet, chatting now and then. The barista brought over tall glasses of ice water, which Bozer accepted gratefully. He sipped it, while Mac drank the whole lot and then chewed on the ice. He even accepted a refill and drained half of that before popping more ice in his mouth.

“Pee before we leave,” Bozer said.

“Rehydration helps with jetlag,” Mac said, crunching ice between his teeth. “Did you know there’s an entire online community dedicated to chewable ice?”

“No,” Bozer said. “But it doesn’t surprise me that this is something you know about.” A huge yawn rocked him. Damn. The food was making him sleepier than he’d already been. He’d have to wake up before he tried driving them back to the house.

“Yeah, it’s –” Mac broke off into a massive yawn too.

Bozer laughed. “Good to know you’re not a sociopath.”

“Huh?”

“I yawn, you yawn. Shows you have empathy.”

Mac chuckled. “Kinda hoping I’d proven my lack of sociopathic tendencies to you before now.” He rubbed his face. “Man, I am exhausted.”

“Yeah, me too.” Bozer broke off into another yawn. He put his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands. “Damn. Maybe leaving the house was a bad idea.”

Mac blinked hard. His expression hardened. At least, Bozer thought it did. “Boze.”

Bozer could hardly stay awake. He tried to pull his head off his hands, but he seemed too heavy. “Mac? Something’s wrong.” His voice slurred. He sounded like he’d downed an entire keg.

He watched Mac try to stand, only for his legs to give out from under him. Mac hit the floor hard. Bozer knew he should get up, help, but his vision wasn’t just fuzzy now. It was blacking out.

He heard something then.

At the very edges of his consciousness.

Whistling.

Bozer knew who it was.

He knew, and there was nothing he could do. The adrenaline couldn’t hit hard enough to fight off sedatives.

Bad. This was so bad.

Bozer passed out.

* * *

Murdoc slid out of the kitchen. He watched the barista lock the doors and close the blinds, just as he’d asked. He did appreciate an eager to please hostage. To think the poor college kid thought they’d be walking out of here alive if they did everything asked of them.

Cute.

“Sorry, kiddo, but boy did you pick the wrong part time job,” Murdoc said.

The kid stayed by the door, body trembling, eyes full of tears. “I did as you asked, man. Please, just let me go.”

Murdoc released a sigh. He couldn’t stand people begging for their lives. It was so weak. He didn’t even waste words on this one.

Double-tap.

Dead.

Sometimes he just killed for the fun of it.

And sometimes, he abducted for the fun of it.

Well…

…it would be for the fun of it if he took dear, sweet Bozer.

“Not this time my intrepid friend,” Murdoc said.

No, he had his eyes on the real prize.

“Hello again, Angus.” Murdoc crouched down, hand reaching out to pat Angus’ pale cheek. “Not quite out yet I see.” He saw Angus blinking heavily, like sheer force of will would keep the sedative at bay. Had he not downed quite so much water, maybe that would be the case. Instead, MacGyver’s eyes were unfocused, his pupils blown wide. It was hard to tell how conscious he really was. “Between you and me, I made sure to give the two of you enough to take out an elephant. Each!” Murdoc laughed. “I had quite strict orders that under no circumstances are you to wake up too soon.” They had a long drive ahead of them. “You see, someone your dear old dad upset not so long ago asked me very kindly to come and get you. And so I have. Oh, and look at you! Trying so hard not to pass out.”

And MacGyver really was fighting. Except he moved in slow motion. If Angus thought he could escape, he was sorely mistaken. His hand closed around a fork, like he wanted to use it to somehow help him escape. Honestly. Murdoc rolled his eyes. “I really hope you don’t think that’ll get you out of here.” He kicked Angus’ hand away from the cutlery. “Now, be a good boy, and get your rest. You’re going to need it.”

Watching Angus finally give in resembled a machine falling silent, going dark. He just seemed to shut down. The strength went out of his limbs, his body settling, limp, against the floor.

Such a pity Murdoc was under orders to deliver the goods to someone else. Otherwise he’d really have some fun.

“We’ll have plenty of time for our games another day,” Murdoc said, hauling Mac off the ground and over his shoulder. “Assuming, of course, that you survive today.”

Carrying his not particularly light burden out of the restaurant, Murdoc headed for his panel van. He’d stolen it from a rental company. It was plain white and anonymous. Dumping sleepy Angus in the back, he slammed the door shut, climbed into the driver’s seat, and headed for the rendezvous point. He hit the switch on the radio, the truck’s cab filling with cheesy 70s disco music. It suited Murdoc just fine.

Today was going to be a good day.

* * *

“…hear a word I’ve said?”

“Huh?” Jack shook himself. He saw Riley smiling at him from the other side of their table. They’d met up for an early lunch at a local, sixties-themed diner. He offered a self-deprecating laugh. “Can’t even pretend I heard a word.”

Riley shook her head with a knowing sigh. “You should talk about it. Get it off your chest.”

Jack reached for his milkshake. “It’s nothing, forget it.”

“You are a surprisingly bad liar,” she said.

“Fine, okay. It’s Mac and you know it,” Jack confessed, hands held up to ward off any further barrages from Riley. “I just need to talk to him and it’ll be fine. Totally, absolutely, completely fine.”

“So, why’d you ask me out to lunch instead of seeing him?” Riley asked, swirling a fry through her ketchup.

“Ah, because I haven’t worked my way up to talking to him yet?” Jack offered.

Riley whistled. “That bad?”

Jack lasted a nanosecond. He just couldn’t say nothing. “It’s how he went dark, y’know? He stopped messaging us. I know we knew where he was, that he was safe and well…”

“But he stopped talking to you, and you’re still really upset about it,” Riley surmised.

Jack shook his head. She was good. She was really good. “He’s too good at cutting himself off like no one cares.”

Riley stared at him.

“What?” Jack asked. “I’m telling you everything!”

“You sure?” Riley popped another fry in her mouth.

“Sure I’m sure.”

“Okay,” she said.

“I’m sure!”

“And I said okay,” Riley said, reaching for her soda.

And then Jack was talking again. “I get it. I get why he is the way he is. You spend your childhood abandoned and parentless so you’re gonna grow up not knowing how to form proper relationships. I just thought maybe he was, y’know, over it.”

Putting it like that made him hear how petulant he sounded. And yet wasn’t he entitled to his hurt feelings?

“Over it,” Riley said, tone flat. “Over his childhood abandonment trauma. People write entire textbooks on attachment issues, Jack. Psychologists make careers out of it. Google John Bowlby. Maslow and his Hierarchy of Needs. You might learn something.”

Jack groaned. “I get it. I do. It’s hard to be on the receiving end of it, that’s all.”

“Yeah, I know,” Riley said. “He ghosted all of us. It wasn’t cool. At all. But I get it. You find out every choice you ever made in your life was actually guided by the father who walked out on you. I’d wanna walk away from everything too. It must’ve felt like his dad created his destiny. And Mac chose to fight back by walking away. Not saying he did it the right way, but I get it.”

Jack couldn’t believe what he was about to say. He just couldn’t hold it in anymore. “It’s just… for a guy who complains so much about his dad cutting him off, you think he wouldn’t do it to us.”

Riley shook her head. “Trauma like Mac’s runs deep. Like, to the core deep. And if you wanna get past it, you’re gonna have to talk to him about it.”

Swirling his straw around his milkshake, Jack smiled at her. “When’d you get so smart?”

“Some of us are just born this way,” she said.

Muttering under his breath, Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Mac.

“Why, if it isn’t everybody’s favorite Texan himself.”

Jack jolted upright so sharply his feet kicked the table. Riley stared at him. “Murdoc, you sonuvabitch,” Jack said. “What the hell are you doing with Mac’s phone?”

“Well, he’s out of it right now. Poor little sleepyhead. Or lanky sleepyhead, more accurately.”

Jack’s fist thumped the table, rattling the cutlery. Guilt ate into him. If he’d just called Mac this morning, fixed this _thing_ between them, he could’ve protected him. “I still owe you for what you did to Jill, so if you hurt him too, I swear I’ll – ”

“Yes, yes, I’m sure you’ll find new and inventive ways to kill me and mince my bloody remains into a pulp. That’s all very dull.”

Jack watched Riley duck under the table and grab her rig out of her backpack. She set to work immediately, pressing her phone to her ear. “Matty, it’s me. We’ve got a situation.”

“You might want to swing by The Industrialist coffee shop on the other side of town. I left poor Bozer there all alone. Not that he’ll be waking up anytime soon.”

He’d hurt Bozer too? Murdoc had just earned himself a triple beating. “Just tell me what you want,” Jack spat out.

“What I want is to relieve myself of this particular burden. You see, I’m actually under contract right now to take our boy. A man has to pay his bills after all.”

“He’s not yours!” Jack snarled.

“He is right now. Because it turns out, your boss, the Big Mac himself, upset some rather powerful people. And they’ve come for revenge. They’ve been having a hard time tracking the old man down, so they asked I bring in his son.”

“Who?” Jack demanded.

Murdoc laughed. “Come now, Jack, I’m not going to give up that kind of information.”

Anger coiled in Jack’s gut. “Do you even know who you’re handing him over to?”

“Hmmm, you know, I have a terrible habit of skipping out on the finer details sometimes. Something about weapons and drugs but I don’t really care.”

“Where are you taking him?” Jack growled. “Tell me that, and maybe I’ll just break your jaw before dumping you in the deepest black hole I can find.”

“I’m not going to tell you anything like that,” Murdoc said, chuckling. “I don’t want boy wonder back here to die, but I also don’t want to upset my very well-paying mystery employer.”

Jack’s hand squeezed his phone. He could barely breathe through his rage.

“Your words have reached me though,” Murdoc said. “I can’t let just anyone take my actual, real life nemesis away from me! Life would be just too dull. So I’ll tell you what. I’ll sneak in a little something extra to help dear Angus out of this latest little pickle. That way, if he survives, we can all play again another day!”

“Murdoc –”

“This has been fun, Jack, but I’ve got places to be and miles to go.”

The call ended.

Jack redialled.

It went straight to voicemail.

“Yeah, Matty, he’s done. I’m gonna hand you over now.” Riley held her phone out to Jack.

He grabbed it, leaving Riley to get back to what she did best. “We need to move on this, fast. And get someone over to The Industrialist. Bozer’s there and he’s hurt.”

“I’ve already got a team on their way,” Matty said. “Riley thinks Murdoc’s headed north out of LA. We’ve got people on the cameras, and as soon as we know what car Murdoc has, we’ll track him. We’re gonna get all the security camera footage we can from the coffee shop.”

“Riley and I are coming in,” Jack said, digging his wallet out his pocket and dropping a money on the table. He didn’t care how big a tip he left. His bad day could be someone else’s good day. “They’re gonna bring Bozer to us, right?” He couldn’t stand the idea of one of their own, stuck in some random hospital, away from his family.

“If our medical team can handle it,” Matty said.

“They can,” Jack said. He refused to believe anything else.

Matty paused. Jack heard her take a breath. Maybe she was trying to buy into his certainty. Because Bozer was going to be fine. And so was Mac. “Get here,” she said.

“We’re on our way.”

Jack and Riley abandoned the diner at top speed, headed for Phoenix.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2, here we go!
> 
> Also, I've just upped this from 3 to 4 chapters. It keeps growing in edits ^^;

Murdoc tossed MacGyver’s phone out of the window. He had no doubt that Phoenix would track him with it otherwise. He hadn’t exactly made it easy for them, but it wasn’t impossible either. Besides, he was telling ol’ wannabe Papa Bear Jack the truth; he was going to give MacGyver a real chance of escape. He didn’t need to pay for all of his father’s mistakes after all. Murdoc wanted the money his employer put on the line, yes, but he also wasn’t finished with MacGyver. Not by a long, long way.

All the more reason to have it both ways. He got his money, and his employer, temporarily, got MacGyver.

“We have too much fun to end it like this!” Murdoc called over his shoulder.

Angus, naturally, didn’t respond.

After hours of driving north into the mountains, following windy roads, the GPS told him he’d reached his destination. Looking along the dusty road, Murdoc saw a helicopter waiting outside a large, disused power station. The building’s art deco exterior didn’t really fit the Californian countryside, but it obviously been built back when people had money to burn. And when people had an eye for grand, architectural art. Now, it was old, crumbling, and patrolled by people in camouflage and carrying hefty weapons.

“Well, Angus, it doesn’t do to keep people waiting,” Murdoc said.

MacGyver had nothing to say. He wouldn’t, given he was so heavily sedated he wouldn’t likely be waking up for several more hours.

Sliding out of the car, Murdoc went to meet his waiting crowd. “I have who you asked for,” he called on his way over.

A redheaded woman stepped forward, a metallic suitcase in her hand. Unlike the others, she was dressed for the boardroom. Murdoc had to admire anyone who could look so smart even in such derelict surroundings. Also, he was quite certain he recognized her. Not that she needed to know that.

She passed the case over. “Your money,” she said, her Russian accent blunted by years abroad.

Oh, he definitely knew her. Saskia Sokolov, a well-known weapons dealer. No wonder she’d used a middleman to find him. Saskia was a wanted woman. And obviously, James MacGyver had done some serious damage to her business. If he hadn’t, she would’ve had a small army at her command. Murdoc counted only six guards now. Quite the downsize for a woman like Saskia.

Not wanting to give it away, Murdoc opened the case and checked it over. Yes, it was there, every fine, green dollar of it. He smiled his most charming smile. “What a pleasure it has been doing business with you all,” he said. “Would you like me to bring the package over to this rather impressive helicopter of yours?”

Saskia shook her head. “Take him in there.” She pointed to the large, abandoned power station.

Unexpected. But not a problem. Returning to his van, Murdoc dumped the case in the backseat and went to fetch MacGyver. Taking care to make sure his trusty little knife was stashed deep in his pocket, Murdoc leaned over MacGyver’s unconscious form. “Don’t say I never do anything to help.”

Actually, Murdoc could imagine MacGyver’s smartass response only too clearly.

Which was exactly why he wasn’t done with him just yet. Not even for the multimillions currently contained in that case. Saskia had gone all in with this little gambit of hers.

Hauling MacGyver over his shoulders, Mudoc carried him into the disused power station. He had to admit, what he saw inside was not what he expected. Then again, few people had his exquisite taste in torture. These people seemed woefully unprepared for holding someone hostage. The building was an empty shell. Nothing remained. Even the old machinery had been removed. Perhaps they intended to merely beat MacGyver with their fists. Well, whatever got them out of bed in the morning.

“Where would you like him?” Murdoc asked. At the very least he’d expected a chair with restraints. There was nothing like that in sight.

“Keep going through to the back,” Saskia said, following close behind. “There’s a separate area. You’ll see.”

Murdoc did indeed see. For when he stepped into the new area, his opinion of Saskia grew. Not much. But a little. And that was saying something. Because in the rear of the old building, sitting beneath a huge skylight, was a large pit. It would have once housed a large steam generator used to power to local area. Dank water glimmered at the edges of a raised concrete platform. And in the middle of that platform, Murdoc saw something else.

A trapdoor.

It was open.

Inside was what had probably once been a maintenance nook; a place where engineers could check over the tank when it was empty, or get beneath the generator for repairs and general monitoring. Now, however, it was something quite different.

“Oh,” Murdoc said, delight trickling through him.

“Yes,” Saskia said. “I suspect without a time limit, his boss won’t give me what I want.”

“Time limit?” Murdoc asked. Just how twisted was this woman’s game going to be?

“Close the door and cut off the air. He’ll only have a matter of hours before he runs out of air. Assuming, of course, the water level doesn’t rise faster than the oxygen runs out.”

Twisted indeed! Murdoc would’ve clapped his hands together if he wasn’t using both to keep MacGyver from slipping off his shoulders.

It was a concrete coffin.

Because the trapdoor that went over the top of it was thick, impenetrable metal, not too dissimilar from the bank vaults Murdoc had broken into from time to time. Close that, and there would be no escape. Not even for MacGyver and his handy knife.

“You are a woman after my own heart,” Murdoc told Saskia.

She laughed. “I have my ways.”

“His boss must have really done something terrible to upset you,” Murdoc said.

“About a billion dollars’ worth of something,” Saskia answered. “It is nothing you need to worry about.”

That was a lot of money. Meaning one James MacGyver must have taken a lot of weapons away from Saskia. Murdoc didn’t say a word. He didn’t want to explain how he knew about her. Their paths had never crossed before, but her reputation was well-known in their little corner of the assassination world. If he’d ever needed to get his hands on a weapon in an unfriendlier part of the world, she would’ve been the person to get it from.

Until Big Mac got hold of it all anyway.

“Take him down,” Saskia ordered. “The sooner we make our demands, the sooner we can get started.”

Happy to oblige, Murdoc lugged his not inconsiderable burden down the rickety stairs into the pit, metal ringing dully with each step. Murdoc grunted. He was definitely going to feel this in the morning.

“Thank you for the reminder I need to up my weight training,” Murdoc told MacGyver.

Crossing the pit, Murdoc reached the old maintenance hole.

“Leave him here,” Saskia ordered. “Don’t put him in the hole just yet.”

Murdoc dropped MacGyver. He landed heavily. “Oh, dear. That’ll leave a bruise or two.”

Saskia stepped forward, cuffing Mac’s hands in front of him. Murdoc nodded his approval. Angus was a tricky one to keep pinned down.

“Put him in the hole,” Saskia said.

Murdoc lowered MacGyver in as best he could. The hole was seven feet long and maybe nine feet deep. Murdoc dropped him the last few feet, hoping his ankles withstood the fall. After all, what use was the knife Murdoc had so kindly left on his person if he had two broken legs? When MacGyver hit the bottom, Murdoc heard a very small splash. Looking down, he saw MacGyver in a shallow puddle. Not enough to drown him in.

Not yet, anyway.

Yes, he had definitely underestimated Saskia. Then again, until today, he hadn’t realized she was his employer. He found himself torn between wanting MacGyver to live and wanting her to stay free. Together, they would probably be capable of some real wonders.

Perhaps another day.

It took both Saskia and Murdoc to close the hatch. The deafening thud rang out. The woman turned the wheel, sealing it shut. Then she turned to Murdoc. “Thank you for bringing him here. You can leave. I know who to call should I ever require such a service again.”

“Always lovely to leave a satisfied customer behind,” Murdoc said.

Tearing his eyes off the hatch, Murdoc left the pit, and the abandoned power station behind.

Although maybe not as far behind as his employer intended.

* * *

They had had next to nothing to go on. Riley and a group of analysts tracked Murdoc’s van to Ojai, some eighty miles north of LA, but they’d lost track of him when he’d carried on into the mountains. There were only so many systems that could be hacked, and when there weren’t any security cameras, traffic cameras or even air traffic drones to hack, they were out of options. Murdoc could’ve stopped somewhere in the hills, or he could’ve carried on.

Either way, Jack didn’t have a solid trail to follow. Ojai, sure, but it wasn’t enough. And Matty wasn’t about to let him go off in case it was a false trail. Murdoc was smart. It wouldn’t be beyond him to put pay someone off to drive all the way there just to put Jack and his team off Mac’s trail. The only one who might give them the last piece of the puzzle was one James MacGyver.

And so far, Matty hadn’t managed to get hold of Oversight. She’d left so many messages and just nothing. Not even a hint to suggest he’d received any of the voice or text messages.

Sometimes, Jack wanted to punch that man hard enough to launch him straight into the sun. Didn’t he get that this was his _son_?

“Jack, quit pacing a hole in the floor,” Matty said.

He didn’t answer. He couldn’t stay still. Not at a time like this.

“Jack.” Matty looked at him. She knew it too. She felt it. The anger. The incomprehensible idea that Oversight could be out of contact during a time like this. “We’ll find something.”

He nodded. They’d better. Hours had gone by since Murdoc’s snide phone call. It was closing in on 1700 hours, and no one could give Jack anything. Even Bozer was still out, sleeping off the last of the sedative despite attempts to flush it out faster.

Fuck Murdoc and his drug cocktail. And fuck James MacGyver for never, not once, being there when his son needed him.

Matty’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen, frowning. Seconds later, she answered it. “Whoever this is, you better have a damn good reason for finding my number.”

Jack watched her, saw the expression of angered shock on her face. She put the call on speaker for all to hear.

“ – can’t get hold of the boss, you’ll have to do,” said a female voice with a distinctly Russian accent. “We have someone who belongs to you, and we aren’t particularly fussed if he lives or dies. You, on the other hand, probably want him back. So, his life for my money and my merchandise.”

Jack watched Riley typing furiously on her rig, trying to trace the call.

“We don’t negotiate with criminals, Saskia,” Matty said.

Wait. Matty knew this woman too? Would Jack ever fully appreciate Matty’s depth of knowledge?

“Then I suppose young MacGyver here will die,” Saskia said. “The question really is what will kill him first? Asphyxiation or drowning?”

Jack dug his nails into the palms of his hands. It was the only thing keeping him from losing his temper.

Matty’s expression darkened. “Are you threatening one of my agents?”

“We’re beyond threats. I want what’s mine. Either you give it to me, or he dies.”

“If you do not release my agent, I will find the deepest, darkest hole on Earth and leave you in it to rot,” Matty said, her voice so low, so calm, Jack knew she was pissed beyond all measure. “And not only you, Saskia. Your daughter is how old now? Four? Five? She’s cute. All that curly blond hair and those bright eyes. It won’t take me long to have her picked up.”

“You would bring a child into this?” Saskia hissed.

“You did that a very long time ago when you started pumping weapons into warzones using child soldiers. Not to mention the drugs you shipped to them so they didn’t care and didn’t feel the horror you helped perpetuate. Ask me again about bringing a child into this.”

Jack and Riley shared a look. Matty never failed to impress. She was Phoenix’s director to a very good reason.

Saskia’s voice shook when she spoke. “If you do anything to my daughter –”

“Return my agent, and maybe your daughter doesn’t get taken to live with a nice, normal, non-murderous family. Otherwise, maybe it won’t be the nice family I find for her. Maybe I’ll leave her on the streets. Or, better still, maybe I’ll drop her off in a warzone so she can see how her mommy treated less fortunate children.”

Saskia laughed. “Let’s see who blinks first.”

The call ended.

Matty turned to Riley. “Give me a location. Both her and her daughter.”

“I’ve got the call narrowed down to the mountains north of Ojai, but I can’t get it more precise. It’s too rural out there,” Riley said. “They could have Mac anywhere in a five mile radius. And, um, I’ll need a little more time to find her daughter.”

“Start cross-referencing places in those mountains on a road but not overly busy. Remote ranches, cabins, anything like that,” Matty ordered. “And the daughter’s name is Yulia Sokolov. I want her found, and I want her brought into protective custody asap. No matter what happens today, that child isn’t staying where she is.”

“On it,” Riley said.

“Jack, get a team together,” Matty said. “We’ll get you into position. Once we have something definitive, you’ll be a hell of a lot closer than you are right now.”

“On it,” Jack said, headed for the door. Finally, he was on the move and he had somewhere to go. Mac would be safe before the day was out.

“Bring our boy home,” Matty said.

Jack forced a smile. “With any luck, he’ll have slept through this whole damn mess.”

* * *

Mac came to in slow, painful phases. His head pounded, his body too hot, his lungs never filling enough to satisfy.

He passed out again.

When he drifted back to consciousness, he heard a sound. Water. It sloshed around him. Shivering, he tried to move, only for aches to rip through him. He felt bruised, battered, like he’d fallen and hit something hard.

And then he felt sick. Really sick. Head spinning like he’d been on a tilt-a-whirl.

He threw up. Everywhere. Noisily.

Pushing himself away from it, he discovered someone had cuffed his hands together. Sickly, headachy exhaustion clung to him. He felt motion sick even though he wasn’t moving, his thoughts slow and clouded.

Sedatives. Heavy duty sedatives.

He felt rough. And why couldn’t he breathe comfortably?

That thought followed him back into a half-doze.

Mac snapped awake again. Curled up against a wall, he forced himself to take slow, steady breaths. Wherever he was, it wasn’t totally dark. Looking up, he saw light coming through a porthole above his head. Why was the door above him? He couldn’t see a ladder, couldn’t see an easy way to reach it. Was he in a building that had fallen over? Was this a partially capsized boat? That might explain the water…

He needed to call out, needed to find out who had done this to him… He tried to remember. It was there. In his aching, drugged up head.

Brunch with…

Brunch with…

Couldn’t remember.

Couldn’t keep his eyes open.

So tired.

Hard to breathe.

Too hot.

Mac sunk back beneath the surface.

* * *

Bozer awoke suddenly and completely. He jolted upright. “Mac!”

“Bozer! Hey, it’s okay. Just sit back. Take a breath.”

Looking to his side, Bozer saw Riley and her rig at his bedside.

“Where’s Mac?” Bozer demanded. “It was Murdoc! Murdoc took him and –” He tried to move, but the snag of the IV in his elbow halted him.

“We’re on it,” Riley said. “I promise, okay? We’ve got the search narrowed down to the mountains north of Ojai.”

“Ojai?” Bozer sat back against the pillows. “Never been.”

“We’re cross-referencing a bunch of different places Murdoc might have taken him,” Riley said.

“Tell me how I can help,” Bozer said.

“You can help by resting,” Riley said. “The doctor called me down because she thought you’d be waking up soon. I didn’t want you to do that alone.”

“Thanks,” Bozer said. “But you’ve got way more important work to do than sit here with me.”

“Are you kidding? I’m not leaving you alone right now.”

“He drugged our food,” Bozer said. “I dunno how.” He scrubbed his face. He felt okay. A little bit spacey, but whatever he’d been dosed with was almost totally out of his system. He probably had the IV fluids to thank for that. “How long have I been here?”

“About ten hours,” Riley said.

“Ten hours? Mac’s been gone that long?” If it wasn’t for the damn IV, Bozer would be out of bed and on his feet.

“But don’t worry. We’re gonna get a definitive location soon. I know it,” Riley said with a smile. “Mac’s gonna be fine.”

“Let me help,” Bozer said. “I can’t just sit here doing nothing.”

“You sure you’re up to it?” Riley asked.

Bozer held out a hand. “Give me something I can work with.”

She handed over her backup rig. “We’re looking for places up in the mountains that could be used to stash Mac and a woman called Saskia known for dealing in weapons. Wherever it is, it’s gotta be big.”

“Big but not easily found,” Bozer said.

“Right,” Riley said. “I’m monitoring cell phone, sat phone and radio use in the area too. So far, nothing useful has pinged up.”

Chances were it never would either, not in such a vast area. Ignoring the headache making itself known behind his eyes and the nausea churning in his gut, Bozer started typing. “Let’s find our boy before he blows something up because we didn’t find him before he escaped himself.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the record, I have never been to Ojai in CA so I'm taking artistic liberties :P 
> 
> See you on Thursday for the next chapter <3


	3. Chapter 3

A loud, metallic clang burst into Mac’s consciousness, dragging him out of his flickering, confusing mesh of nightmares. Light blared in from above. Staggering back, eyes squinting, he looked up.

A shadow looked back down at him.

“Who are you?” he demanded, his voice hoarse with too much sleep.

“A victim of your boss. All he had to do was walk away. Instead, he took my business from me,” a woman’s voice said. She had a faint Russian accent. “You’re causing me a great deal of effort and pain.”

Fresh air washed in from above. It cooled the weird hole Mac found himself in, reviving him. He found himself laughing. “Pain? You?” He raised his cuffed wrists. “Maybe you missed the part where I’m the one you’ve imprisoned?”

“Your boss took more from me than you should be worth, and yet here he is, holding out,” the woman snapped. “Perhaps I chose the wrong person to take. He doesn’t seem interested in getting you back.”

Boss? Overwatch? Dad? The woman obviously didn’t know the reality of their relationship. Mac tried to remember what had happened to get him here, but it wouldn’t come out of the fog clinging to his thoughts.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Mr MacGyver. We’re going to speed things up. Because if your boss insists upon hiding and sending only his underlings to do his dirty work, you are the price he has to pay for what he’s taken from me.”

What had Dad taken from her? Before he could ask, Mac heard an almighty metallic squawk.

Followed by the unmistakable sound of water.

The foul puddle at his feet rocked, waves creeping over his ankles.

He looked down.

The water rose.

Fast.

Obviously the old power station’s backup water tanks hadn’t been emptied until now. The water was disgusting, brackish and filthy.

He looked back up.

Saw the flash of a camera taking his picture.

“You’d best start hoping someone agrees to my terms,” she said. “If they do, the water goes off and you come out of the pit. Otherwise this will be your grave.”

Moments later, the heavy door swung shut again, locking Mac into a dark, concrete box rapidly filling with water.

He couldn’t lose his head. Patting himself down, Mac found a familiar shape in the depths of his pocket. Pulling it free, he found the right tool to pick his way free of the cuffs.

One problem solved. Now to figure out how to get out. He leapt up, trying to grab the door. It was no good. He couldn’t get high enough. Even if he pushed off one wall onto the other to gain extra height, there was nothing on the inside of the door to grip. The wheel mechanism to unlock it was on the outside. It meant that even when the water got high enough for him to touch the door, it wouldn’t do him any good. Maybe if he could somehow break the porthole, he’d be able to reach through and grab the handle, releasing himself…

Okay, that was a potential backup plan. Until then, he needed to try and stop the water coming in. It gushed out from a pipe below his feet. Thrusting his hands under the surface, he found it. Actually, he sliced his hands open on it. Crap. So, whatever this pipe was, it wasn’t supposed to be sending water gushing into this space. Maybe his mystery abductor had set it up this way. The jagged hole was big, probably large enough to jam a football into.

If only he had something like that right now. All he had were the clothes he stood in and his knife. That wasn’t going to be enough to block the pipe.

Okay. What else did he have? Looking at the walls, using what little light he had, he could make out a number of gauges measuring pressure and output. They were old. Really old. From his grandfather’s childhood old. Maybe even his great-grandparents. Gauges like this would be attached to engines of some kind. But this couldn’t be a vehicle, not with concrete entombing him like this.

So…

The thought took a long time coming.

“Power station!” Mac said. He ran a bloody hand over his face. He really needed his head to clear, fast.

Knowing where he was didn’t really help him. It wasn’t like there was anything around to conveniently tell him which power station… And even if it did, what good would it do? These machines were ancient and definitely weren’t working anymore. Based on the lack of light and the feeling he’d been asleep for a very, very long time, he could be just about anywhere in California… assuming he hadn’t been flown somewhere.

Another sound distracted him from his mental meanderings, this one somehow worse than the water gushing up from below.

Because this water was spraying out from above, covering the hatch above him.

Which meant if he somehow got the door open before the pit flooded, he’d only flood it that much faster. Then again, if the door opened into a much larger space, the water pressure wouldn’t be so great that he’d struggle to open the door and get himself out.

They were burying him under water from above and below.

And he had no clever, ingenious way out. There were limits to what he could do after all. At the very least he’d be able to swim now his wrists were free of the cuffs.

The water rapidly reached his knees. It was tepid and foul, shocking him back into a more wakeful state. He still couldn’t remember how he’d been knocked out. He remembered brunch with Bozer and after that? Nothing.

If Bozer was hurt or worse, Mac would never forgive himself.

He needed to be smart in here. Needed to stay calm. He’d awoken struggling to breathe, meaning the CO2 would already be on the rise in here.

Suffocation or drowning. What a shitty choice of ways to die.

The woman imprisoning had taken a photo, right? Something to send back to Phoenix. If anyone would be able to track him down, it would be Riley. Which meant Jack would come blasting through that door.

Mac just had to hold on.

Hold on, and hope he had enough air and space to survive the wait for Jack.

Until then, he had to focus. How could he slow down the water? Block the pipe. Alright. He went to the old gauges and used his knife to pull the old metal façade free. Behind that, he found bundles of thick cable. He tore the cabling free, balled it up, and used it to plug the pipe. The water slowed. Not much; it was already at his knees and rising, by without the bundle of wires slowing it down, it’d probably be waist height already. It wouldn’t hold forever, but it gave him time.

Or, rather, gave Phoenix time to send in a rescue.

* * *

Matty’s phone pinged with an incoming message. She looked at it, her heart thudding with both relief and horror. Relief, because she could see one very much alive Angus MacGyver. Horror, because he was in enemy hands and trapped.

Thankful she’d already been on her way down to Medical, Matty picked up the pace. She burst into Bozer’s room. He and Riley both looked up at her.

“Everything okay, Matty?” Bozer asked. “Because I think we might –”

She handed her phone to Riley. “See what you can get off this image.”

But Riley didn’t take the phone. She was too busy frowning at her screen.

“What is it?” Matty asked.

“Something weird.” Riley met Matty’s gaze. “Someone just called Mac’s phone. And the phone that called him is in the mountains outside Ojai.”

“Where?” Matty demanded.

“I don’t know,” Riley said. “Not yet. I’ve got a better idea of the area, but it’s still too big.”

“We’re narrowing it down,” Bozer said.

“We don’t have time to be wrong about this,” Matty said. She forced her impatience, anger and fear out of her voice. Saskia would pay for this. And her daughter would be free to live a normal life with a normal, non-warmongering family.

“What’s on the phone?” Bozer asked.

Matty handed it to him. He looked at the screen. “Mac’s alive,” he breathed. “Oh man, that’s the best news we’ve had all day.”

“Yeah, but he’s in danger,” Matty said. “If you can get a location off that photo, we might have more luck narrowing down the search.”

Riley reached for the phone. Bozer pulled it back. “I know this is gonna sound crazy, but I think I know where he might be.”

“Where?” Matty asked, hearing the hope in her voice.

“Okay, I don’t know exactly, but these machines? I’ve seen them before. At old power stations. I researched them once for a movie I wanted to work on. Post-apocalyptic, y’know?”

Matty stared at him. “You’re serious?”

“Absolutely,” Bozer said.

“And he’s right!” Riley said, breaking out in a huge grin. Her finger jabbed the map on her screen. “There’s an abandoned power station in the radius encompassing the phone that just called Mac!” She typed rapidly. “I’m tasking a satellite now. We’ll have pictures in two minutes.”

“Send the coordinates to Jack,” Matty ordered.

“Done,” Riley said.

“I need you in the War Room,” Matty said.

“I’m coming too!” Bozer said. “Please, I –”

Matty held up a hand. “Bozer, it’s fine. I’ll send the doctor in to disconnect you from the IV.” She turned, heading out the door. “I need both of you on this. Riley, let’s go.”

Riley grabbed her rig. “We’ll see you up there, Boze.”

“I’ll be there soon,” he said.

Outside the room, Matty called to a doctor and gave him orders to release Bozer. She needed her best team on this, and between them, Riley and Bozer had the best eyes to monitor everything from the sky.

Pressing her phone to her ear, she called Jack. “Dalton, we’ve got you a location. You bring our boy home. And you better bring Saskia in too. I’ve got just the shithole in mind for her, and I am gonna take pleasure locking the door behind her myself.”

* * *

“You got it,” Jack told Matty. His team was already in the air, heading for the factory. They’d have to rappel out of the chopper. They couldn’t waste time with a surprise attack. Mac didn’t have time for that.

“We’ll get backup from the local sheriff’s department on route to block off the road in case anyone slips through,” Matty said.

“Sounds good, boss.”

“Riley’s tasked a satellite so we’ll have eyes in the sky within a minute,” Matty said. “We’ll give you a sitrep so you know what you’re heading into.”

“We’re ready for anything,” Jack said.

“You’d better be. Saskia didn’t get this far in life just through selling weapons and drugs. She’s a survivor.”

“We’ll get her,” Jack promised. No way would he let her get away with what she’d done to Mac.

And if he found Murdoc, he wouldn’t let that bastard get away either.

“Alright, we’ve got the satellite in position,” Matty said. “Riley? Bozer?”

“I’m seeing a single large structure,” Riley said. “Mac’s gotta be in there somewhere.”

“We’ve got six heat signatures patrolling the building and a seventh standing inside,” Bozer said. “Wait. There’s an eighth. There’s one in the trees. Whoever that is, they’re not moving.”

Jack had a feeling he knew exactly who that was. Dammit. He couldn’t waste the manpower it’d take to grab Murdoc. The landscape here was hostile; steep hills speckled with trees.

“The one inside,” Jack said. “Where is it?”

“In the middle,” Bozer said. “We found blueprints of the power station. It would’ve been the turbine room, so now it’s empty. The engines themselves were removed.”

“Mac was in a pit on the photo I saw,” Matty said. “But in a small space. No way was it big enough for an engine.”

“Maintenance space,” Bozer said.

“How the hell d’you know so much about this place?” Jack asked. “You have a part time gig in a power station?”

“Nah, movie research,” Bozer said.

Jack had to give it to the kid. He knew his stuff. “Thank goodness you have such broad and weird interests.” 

“Just get to it and get Mac out,” Matty said. “He doesn’t have much time.”

“He definitely doesn’t,” Riley said. “I’ve enhanced the feed as much as I can, and there’s just barely a second heat signature inside the building. It could be that he’s just too far down for the satellite to read or – ”

“There’s no ‘or’ in this situation,” Jack snapped. “We’re getting him back. We’ll be there in –” Jack looked to the pilot, who held up two fingers. “Ten minutes. Standby.”

“Standing by,” Matty said. “Move fast, Jack.”

“Like really fast,” Bozer said.

“Kessel Run fast,” Riley added.

“Guys, trust me. We’re gonna make it on time.”

But if Jack could make the helicopter go faster right now, he’d do it.

Mac had to make it. He had to. Jack wasn’t losing him like this.

* * *

The bundle of wire didn’t hold for as long as Mac hoped. The water pressure untangled it, copper trailing loose. The compromised pipe gave way too, the rusted metal coming apart. When it all gave way, water burst into the pit, rapidly filling the space. It carried Mac higher. He could reach the door now, but he had no way to get it open. The porthole was thick and solid. He couldn’t break it, and the seal holding it in place wouldn’t break no matter how much Mac worked away at it with his knife. He thumped the glass in frustration.

What air remained was stifling, packed full of CO2. His head pounded, his lungs unsatisfied. He could see the water on the other side, see that it too was a lot deeper than before. Still not so deep that someone wouldn’t be able to open the hatch, but deep enough that it’d instantly fill what little empty space remained in the pit.

Mac was exhausted too. Keeping himself above the surface took constant effort. The space was wide enough that he couldn’t pin himself in place. He had to tread water. It was nothing but determination that kept him going.

Phoenix would come for him.

Jack would come.

Matty wouldn’t need to give the woman what she wanted. No way. She’d send her worst nightmare to find her instead. Mac smiled at the thought. Matty was good at things like that. He’d seen her reduce grizzled soldiers to tears, remembered watching from outside the War Room both amazed, awed and totally grateful he wasn’t the one on the receiving end of that or –

Water choked him. Mac jolted out of his reverie, realising his head had gone under the surface. Breaking through, he gasped for air, choking on the water he’d inhaled. Crap. He did not need to make it harder for himself. He had to stay awake, stay on the surface, breathe what little air remained.

He found himself thinking of Zoe, of the brave choice she’d made. At least he didn’t have to contend with freezing cold water too. If he was going to die, he could at least face it like she had. He couldn’t give up yet, but he had to be realistic.

He grabbed the doorframe, using it to keep himself on the surface. He looked through the porthole in the door, but it was too dark to see into the huge chamber beyond. Fear squeezed his chest, stealing his breath.

What if no one was out there?

What if no one was coming?

He probably had ten minutes of air left. And after that?

He’d…

No. He couldn’t give up. Jack was coming.

Mac clung on with what little strength he had left. He had to give the others as much time as possible to reach him.

Because they would.

They’d find him.

They’d –

He snapped awake, under the water again. He kicked himself back to the surface, finding less of it than before.

He had five inches of space remaining.

He didn’t have much time.

He closed his eyes, pulled in what air he could. Based on how lightheaded he was, and how empty his lungs felt, there wasn’t much air left.

Mac pressed his hands to the glass, willing someone to knock against the other side, to see him, to come for him.

No one came.

He fought for what air he could find. He felt spaced out, disconnected, the world fading around him before he could –

Mac sank beneath the surface.

* * *

Jack and his team hit the ground running. He made a beeline for the old power station while the others covered him, taking out anyone who came their way. Mac didn’t have time for them to mess around out here. And thankfully, Jack was surrounded by people who knew how to make every shot count.

Knowing he could rely on the others to take out the guards, Jack crossed into the abandoned building. It towered around him, shadows flickering across the empty space. Jack couldn’t hear anyone nearby. He heard gunfire from outside and something far more worrying.

Rushing water.

A lot of rushing water.

Eyes darting, taking in every possible place someone might attack from, Jack kept moving forward. He stepped into a large area and saw her on the other side of the massive pit.

Saskia. She stood by an enormous wheel, one that had to control the water flowing into the old building. Jack glared at her. She was the one who’d ordered Murdoc to abduct Mac and bring him here.

She held a rifle in her hands.

She fired, once, the sound explosive.

Concrete rained down on Jack, her shot meters off mark.

Just ‘cause she sold weapons didn’t mean she knew how to use them.

Jack aimed at her.

“Drop it,” he ordered. “This is your only warning.”

“I’d rather be dead than in a cell!” Saskia shouted. “Besides, you’re too late. Look at the water! Your agent is dead!”

She fired again.

Missed again.

Jack fired once.

He didn’t miss.

Saskia went down.

She wouldn’t be getting back up again.

Jack ran around the pit to the staircase ahead of him. He leapt down the stairs, hitting the water in seconds. It came up to his waist. He waded through, trying to spot the hatch under the water’s tumultuous surface.

There!

“Tell me you have him,” Matty said, her voice cutting through the gushing sound of the water.

“Almost!” Jack grabbed the door’s massive handle. It took all his strength to turn it, his wet hands struggling for a grip. He felt the wheel mechanism give, and then it turned until it unlocked. He wrenched the door open, straining every muscle. He plunged into the pit, hands closing around Mac’s shoulders. Pulling hard, Jack swam back to the surface.

Mac wasn’t conscious, and he wasn’t breathing.

Jack hauled him over his shoulder and raced back up to the walkways surrounding the pit. Lowering Mac, he started CPR, refusing to acknowledge how pale Mac was or how blue his lips were.

“C’mon, Mac.” Jack didn’t let himself falter at the sound of a rib breaking. “Breathe!”

Jack delivered another rescue breath, hating how cold and clammy Mac was. He wasn’t losing him like this, wasn’t letting him die in such a hideous way.

“Don’t you die on me,” Jack ordered. “Don’t be that asshole!”

But Mac wasn’t coming around.

And he still wasn’t breathing.

Jack felt another rib go.

“I’ll break the whole set if that’s what it takes to get you breathing for yourself,” Jack gasped.

“I’ve got medevac inbound,” Matty said, her voice calm over comms.

Good. Because Mac was gonna need it.

Footsteps approached.

Someone whistled.

Jack didn’t even bother looking up. “Not now, Murdoc, you sick fuck.”

“You should be glad you even have a chance of reviving him,” Murdoc purred. “I imagine he wouldn’t have made it out of the handcuffs if I hadn’t left his little knife with him. One assumes he found a way to slow the water, too.”

Matty’s voice filled Jack’s ear, ordering other agents to get inside and get after Murdoc. Good. Because Jack couldn’t waste the time it would take to shoot the bastard. Not when Mac still wasn’t breathing.

“I’m not going to stick around for the afterparty. Honestly, I should've brought popcorn. That was quite the show you put on! Alas, I’ve already earned my hefty fee for the day so I'll be on my way,” Murdoc said. He was already jogging away. “Make sure the boy genius lives to see another day. Life would be too dull without him.”

Shouts went out as the other agents raced after Murdoc. Jack didn’t stop CPR. Mac was more important than anything or anyone.

Jack forced another breath into Mac’s lungs.

Mac’s body jerked beneath him.

Jack pulled back as Mac started choking and coughing, the sounds wrenched from the depths of his body. Jack rolled him onto his side.

“There you go. Get it up. Get it all up.” Jack sucked in a deep breath. “Matty, how far out are the medics?”

“Two minutes,” she said.

“He’s breathing again, but he’s not coming around,” Jack said.

“Stay with him,” Matty said.

“Murdoc?” Jack asked.

“The others are after him,” Matty said. “Damn, he’s fast.”

And based on the gunfire Jack could hear, he was keeping the team busy too.

Jack stayed with Mac, keeping him on his side, telling him to breathe, hitting him hard on the back whenever he seemed to be choking. Mac shivered beneath him, dirty water dripping off him and pooling beneath him.

“You just keep breathing,” Jack told him. “Breathe, Mac. You’re safe now.”

Footsteps approached. Jack turned, weapon ready. He spotted the familiar faces of Phoenix medics and relaxed. He stepped back and let them do their work.

Mac was safe now, alive, and he was coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was soooooo tempted to leave this on a cliffhanger ^^;;
> 
> So, emergency services (here in the UK anyway!) use a program that attempts to work out where a call is coming from, but it's nowhere near as precise as TV would have you believe. It basically gives you a radius to work with and sometimes its incredibly inaccurate. I took that as inspiration for this chapter.
> 
> Final part coming up Saturday. Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CUE THE COMFORT AND FLUFF 👍

Sound.

It pulled him from the silence and darkness.

A voice.

“…hitting thirty hours, Matty. Starting to worry he ain’t ever gonna wake up.”

Another voice spoke up.

“Our boy nearly drowned on top of being hypothermic and drugged. Give him a break, Dalton. He’s been through hell.”

“I know, I know. I just need him to be okay.”

“We all do.”

Mac dragged his eyes open. He saw blurry lights overhead, heard something beeping nearby. He felt weird. Heavy. Cold. And why did his hands hurt? He pulled in a deep breath. It caught in his chest. Ow. _Ow._

“Mac?”

He rolled his head to one side, saw two fuzzy faces sat next to each other beside him. He blinked hard. For a moment, his vision sharpened, only for it to slide away again. It was clear enough for him to make out Jack and Matty. “Hi,” he said, voice hoarse.

Jack’s blurry face broke out in a fuzzy look of relief. “There’s my boy.”

Mac wasn’t sure how _there_ he was.

“Hey there, blondie,” Matty said. “Feeling pretty rough I take it?”

He managed a grunt. Words weren’t really necessary. And his eyes were already closing. He wanted to say he was cold, but the words wouldn’t leave his mouth.

“Looks like someone’s not totally online yet,” Matty said.

Mac couldn’t argue.

“Go back to sleep,” she told him.

A soft weight fell against him. “There you go,” Jack said. “Let’s get you warmed up.”

Mac dozed off, feeling warmth seeping through him. He wasn’t sure how long he slept for, but when he woke up, he felt…

Weird.

Hot and cold.

Achy.

His hands itched. He could feel bandaged over them.

And what had he done to his ribs?

He was in a small room. Phoenix medical? No. A hospital. Not one he was familiar with.

“Mac?” It was Riley this time, her voice low and soft.

Blinking, Mac looked to his left. She was there, smiling. Behind her, he caught sight of Jack asleep in one recliner, Bozer in the other. Mac tried to reach out, but Riley caught his bandaged hand. “Bozer’s fine, don’t worry. He’s been worried about you. Jack too. Look at them. Lightweights, both of ‘em,” she said.

Mac clung onto Riley’s hand. He couldn’t squeeze, not when he remembered the gashes he’d opened on both palms on the rusty pipe.

“We’ll let ‘em sleep a bit longer,” Riley said. “Mostly because I need a break from all their panicking.”

Riley’s words washed over Mac. He couldn’t take his eyes off Bozer. He was there, and he was okay. He hadn’t been taken, hadn’t been killed. He was so relieved he almost cried. And Jack. Jack was still here, even though Mac had abandoned him.

“You’ve slept for, like, three days already,” Riley added. “Do you remember waking up yesterday at all? Jack and Matty were here.”

Three days? He frowned. Hadn’t Jack and Matty spoken to him only a little while ago?

“Thirsty?” Riley asked.

Not trusting himself to speak, Mac nodded. Riley held out a glass with a straw. Mac sipped, the cool water soothing his throat.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice still gravelly like he had a really bad cold.

“Forget about it,” Riley said.

“You okay?” Mac asked.

“Yeah,” Riley said. “I’m not the one who was drugged, abducted and almost drowned.”

“Thanks for finding me,” Mac said.

“Anytime,” Riley said. “You’ve done the same for us.”

“Let’s not make a habit of it,” Mac said, running out of air embarrassingly fast. He rubbed at his nose, finding an oxygen cannula there. He also spotted the IVs in the back of his hand and his elbow. Wow. That was a lot of medication flowing into his body. He reached for one of the IV ports.

“Don’t even think about it.” Matty’s voice came from the doorway. A doctor stood behind her. “You need all of that if you’re even hoping to get out of here before the end of the week.”

Seeing as Mac had totally lost track of time and days, he had no idea how much of a threat that was. Either way, he wasn’t about to risk Matty’s wrath.

Riley pushed both his arms back down. “There we go.”

Matty walked around the bed and gave Jack and Bozer simultaneous nudges. They both jolted awake.

“What the hell, Matty?” Jack groused.

Rolling her eyes, Matty pointed to Mac.

Mac waved at them. They nearly fell over each other to reach his bedside.

“Man, I am glad to see you,” Bozer said, resting his hand gently over Mac’s. Mac relished the warmth of his friend’s touch. “I am so, so, sorry I couldn’t stop Murdoc.”

Mac frowned. Had he woken up in the wrong universe? “It wasn’t Murdoc,” he said. “It was some woman.” With a grudge against his dad who, it seemed, hadn’t come by. Mac tried to crush the flickers of hurt. He really should know better by now.

“You don’t remember?” Bozer asked. “Murdoc was there in the diner. He drugged us and took you to Saskia, the woman who tried to kill you.”

It wasn’t computing. “Murdoc did this?”

“You really don’t remember?” Bozer asked.

Mac shook his head.

“Perhaps you could all step out for a moment before you overtax Mr MacGyver,” the doctor said.

“Mac,” the others chorused.

“Mac. Of course,” the doctor said.

Matty rounded everyone up and led them out. The doctor read monitors, took notes, listened to his chest with a subzero stethoscope, and asked Mac the most dreaded question of all.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

Mac sighed. And then coughed. It wasn’t too bad – he’d certainly had worse with broken ribs. But his chest felt too heavy and he still couldn’t get warm. His slashed hands throbbed in time with his heart. He was exhausted too, and he had a heavy headache. Honestly, he didn’t know where to start.

The doctor smiled. “That good, huh?”

Toying with his blanket, Mac nodded.

“Well, we’ve got you on some fairly hefty antibiotics because the water you were in wasn’t clean at all. You’ve been mildly feverish, but so far it’s stayed fairly low.”

“I feel cold,” Mac said.

“Your body temperature, to put it mildly, is a little out of whack right now. As I said, the antibiotics are there to keep anything really nasty at bay. Best you feel a little chilly rather than too hot.”

“Okay.”

“You’ve avoided secondary drowning too, although you are congested which is to be expected. We’re monitoring your oxygen levels just to be sure. You need to keep breathing deeply, even if it hurts. I will be sending in nurses to make sure you do exactly that.”

“What happened to my ribs?” Mac asked.

“CPR,” the doctor said.

That gave Mac a pause. CPR? When? From who?

From Jack. It had to be.

Yet another reason Mac owned him an apology.

“It saved your life,” the doctor continued. “However, you’re skirting the edge of pneumonia and I’m not sure if you’ll totally avoid it. It’s a waiting game, I’m afraid.”

A waiting game Mac really didn’t want to lose.

“You were hypothermic when you were brought in,” the doctor said, flicking through his notes. “The sedatives you were given would’ve dropped your body temperature and your respiratory functions too, although they are well and truly flushed from your system now.”

“Are they?” Because Mac still felt half asleep.

“You’re still exhausted, medicated, and fighting off infection,” the doctor told him. “You need rest. A lot of it. And if that means you sleep more than normal, good.”

Mac wasn’t sure how he felt about sleeping more, but his body really wasn’t going to give him a choice in the matter. He needed to stay awake until someone explained what the hell had happened, and how Murdoc was involved because that…

How could he not remember that?

“Next time you wake up we’ll get some food into you,” the doctor said. “We’ll try and get you mobile too. It will help keep your lungs clear.”

“Sounds good,” Mac said.

“Ready for the others to come back in?” the doctor asked.

Mac nodded. He couldn’t deny them. Not when they were all so worried.

“Alright, they get ten minutes. Then you need more sleep.”

Mac didn’t think he’d be awake in five minutes, let alone ten, but he figured the doctor already knew that.

The doctor left. Matty led the others back in. Bozer barged his way through. “I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have brought Murdoc up until you’re feeling better and –”

“Take a breath, Boze,” Mac said. “Just tell me what happened.”

Bozer did as he was told. Mac listened in astonished silence. Murdoc had abducted him on someone else’s orders? Saskia. A now very dead weapons dealer his dad had dealt with before. Murdoc had done that because he wanted a good pay day? That sounded…

Okay, it sounded pretty accurate.

And, Mac realized, it explained something. Because if he hadn’t had his pocketknife, he wouldn’t have escaped those handcuffs and he wouldn’t have survived.

“You look like you’re having some kind of revelation,” Matty said.

“Murdoc works in mysterious ways,” Mac said, settling himself against his pillows.

“He won’t get away next time,” Jack said. “I’ll see to it personally.”

Mac closed his eyes. “Thanks, Jack.”

“Anytime, man,” Jack said. He hung at the back of the room, leaving the others to stay closer to the bed. “You just get some rest, alright?”

He didn’t want to rest yet. Not before he’d said sorry for…

Mac fell asleep before he could say anything else.

* * *

His hospital stay involved more discomfort than Mac really wanted to think about. To keep his lungs clear, they made him take deep breaths and gave him a nasty little bowl to spit into. He tried to fight the urge to cough, and when he couldn’t, he tried to keep it shallow. The doctor and nurses taking care of him didn’t let him get away with it. Not even once.

His friends offer sympathy. Mostly. Matty challenged him.

“Cough up something gross and I’ll let you repair my coffee maker,” she said. “I’ll break it just so you can put it back together again.”

Who could resist an offer like that? He gave Matty exactly what she wanted.

“Sorry,” he said when the nurse took the nastiness away.

“Forget about it,” Matty said. “I’ve seen worse, trust me.”

Mac definitely trusted her. He also didn’t want any more details.

“One broke coffee maker coming your way when you’re out of here,” Matty said.

Aching and breathless, Mac managed to smile. “Thanks.”

“Just promise me it’ll come back as it was, without any of your enhancements. I do not need my coffee maker to explode every time I hit the espresso button.”

“It’ll be just like new,” he said.

Mac slept as much as he could when he was alone, and watched whatever YouTube videos the others could think of when they took turns at his bedside. Jack was quieter than usual, content to sit back and watch Epic Fail compilations on his iPad. Mac knew he needed to bridge that gap first, but he didn’t have the energy for it. What if they had a huge fight? What if she said something and really pushed Jack away? Maybe if he said nothing, they’d just move on… Maybe?

A voice in his head called him a coward.

“Hey, Jack?” Mac said.

“Later,” Jack answered. “When you’re out of here. We’ll talk.”

Mac felt both relieved and more on edge by that. But he owed Jack. Owed him more than ever. “Okay.”

The days dragged, although he felt better as they went. The antibiotics kept anything too nasty at bay, but his chest hurt, his hands throbbed if he tried anything involving fine motor skills, and he’d discovered hefty bruising down one side of his body when he’d taken a brief shower. He couldn’t remember why. Had he fallen onto something?

After four days, the doctors finally agreed Mac was up to the journey back to LA. He spent the entire drive in a painkiller-induced sleep in the passenger seat of his own truck. Bozer drove him home, the others having returned the day before.

A hand shook him awake. He blinked hard, swallowing the nasty taste in his mouth. Bozer’s smiling face filled Mac’s vision. “We’re home,” Bozer said. “Ready to go inside?”

They took it slow, giving Mac’s equilibrium a chance to settle. They walked inside. Mac spotted a gift from Matty in the kitchen; a very broken coffee maker with a large red bow and a ‘Get Well Soon!’ helium balloon bobbing above it. He smiled.

“Ah, ah, ah, don’t you go getting any ideas,” Bozer said. “You aren’t touching that coffee maker until you’ve had a good meal, your next dose of antibiotics and whatever other meds you came home with, and a good night’s sleep.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” Mac said.

“And don’t you go giving me any of that MacGyver sass,” Bozer said.

By the time Mac made it to the couch, he felt more awake. Bozer handed him a bottle of water and a protein bar. He also put a bottle of Tylenol down.

“Take two of those after you’ve eaten. I’m gonna make a grocery store run,” Bozer said. “You gonna be okay for an hour or so?”

“Sure,” Mac said. He reached for a blanket on the back of the chair, wrapping it around himself.

Bozer snapped his fingers. “Pillows!” he declared, hurrying away. “Lemme get you some pillows.”

By the time Bozer left for the store, Mac was tucked up and cozy, resting as comfortably as his broken ribs allowed. He’d eaten the protein bar and downed two Tylenol with his water. The TV was on, playing an ancient episode of _Mythbusters_. Not that Mac was really watching it. He found himself wondering just how mad Bozer would be if he dragged Matty’s coffee maker in here and got to work on fixing it.

It was all a distraction. Mac needed to call Jack. He needed to apologize for everything. For leaving and going dark. It was a cruel, callous thing to do.

Maybe the apple didn’t fall far from the tree after all.

Except it didn’t have to be like that. Mac didn’t have to make all the same choices. And looking back now, he didn’t really know why he’d stopped responding to everyone’s messages. They’d all fallen victim to his anger, and it wasn’t right. Jack especially didn’t deserve such treatment. Because Jack was the one who’d come for him. Jack was the one who’d saved his life again. Dad hadn’t even called. Hadn’t even passed on a message through Matty. He’d kept his distance and his silence. On his third day in the hospital, Mac worked up the energy to ask Matty if she knew why his dad had gone dark again. She’d simply shaken her head and apologized.

Some things never changed. But Mac couldn’t, wouldn’t, treat Jack like that.

He could suck it up and say sorry…

…just as soon as he scrounged up the energy to pick up the house phone and call Jack. He needed a new phone ASAP. It wasn’t like he’d had the chance to replace the one Murdoc had obviously disposed of.

He was just about to convince himself to get up and find the phone when he heard the door open. Had it really been an hour already? Mac knew he should see if Bozer needed help bringing the groceries in. Wrapping his blanket around him like cape, Mac got to his feet, waited for the dizziness to pass, then headed for the kitchen.

And saw Jack coming in.

“Hey,” Mac said, feeling his heart rate creeping up a notch.

“Hey,” Jack said, expression impassive. “Bozer said y’all were home. How are you feeling?”

“Good, thanks,” Mac said. Probably because he was still enjoying the tail end of the painkillers the doctors in Ojai had dosed him with, with a little Tylenol booster thrown in. “I’m much better than I was.”

He spoiled it by coughing. He wrapped an arm around his ribs. Fuck, that really hurt.

Jack stared at him.

“Honestly, I’m feeling better,” Mac wheezed.

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, not so convincing, am I?”

“Not even a little bit, Mac. How about you go back to the couch?” Jack said, still not breaking eye contact. “You’re looking kinda flushed, and that was before you tried bringing up a lung. And did you not notice that you’re weaving where you stand?”

Mac had noticed. And he wasn’t going back to the couch. Not yet. He bowed his head. “I need to say something.”

“Okay,” Jack said, uncharacteristically quiet.

“I’m sorry,” Mac said, spitting it out before his nerves got the better of him. “I should’ve stayed in contact with you after I left. You didn’t deserve to be cut out like that, and I’m an asshole for treating you like that. You’ve always been there for me, and I threw it in your face. I’m sorry. I… I hurt you, and you get to be pissed at me. Your feelings matter, and I just ignored you. Turns out I’m not so different from my dad after all.” And wasn’t that a bitter pill to swallow. Mac struggled to catch his breath. “If you wanna be reassigned, I – ”

Jack cut him off by grabbing him and hugging him. Gently. “You’re my nerd, no one else’s. Sure, I wish you’d sent me messages, let me know you were okay, but I get it. I do. You needed a clean break, a choice to live your life your way. And if you wanna go and do that again someday, I won’t stop you. But just let me in, okay? Let all of us in. We care about you. Don’t cut us out again. Your dad can’t control everything that ever happens to you. Me, Bozer, Riley, Matty. We chose to be your family.” Jack’s hand rests against the back of Mac’s head. “So even if it’s just a message to say you’re good, don’t leave everyone behind. You still get way too lost in here sometimes.” He tapped his fingers against Mac’s skull. “Don’t be that guy, okay?”

“Okay.” Fighting to catch his breath, Mac returned the hug, squeezing his eyes shut before he could cry. “I promise,” he said, sinking into Jack’s arms.

Jack’s hand ruffled Mac’s already out of control hair. “Hey, Mac?”

“Yeah?”

“If I let go right now, would you hit the floor?”

“Uh…” Heat rushed to Mac’s cheeks. He was, he hated to admit it, leaning on Jack more than he intended to. “Gimmie a second.” He got his feet under him and pushed back.

And would’ve kept going, if not for Jack grabbing him. “Couch?”

“Couch,” Mac agreed.

They went together, Jack lowering Mac back down to the cushions. He pressed the back of his hand to Mac’s forehead. “Still got that fever, huh?”

“It’s fine. Doc said the antibiotics are working.” He took a careful, deep breath. “It could be worse.”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said.

Mac gripped Jack’s hand as best he could. The doctors had replaced the bandages with band aids, but the gashed palms still hurt. “Thank you,” he said. “You saved my life again.”

“Broke you a bit while I tried,” Jack said through a pained smile.

“Consider us even for that time I broke your arm,” Mac said.

Shaking his head with a grin, Jack disappeared for a few moments and returned with a cold compress. He draped it over Mac’s head, then grabbed the remote and sat down. He lifted Mac’s legs so they rested over his. “Let’s see what’s on.”

“I like _Mythbusters_!” Mac protested. 

“Hey, I saw the broken coffee maker on the kitchen counter. You’re gonna have plenty of time for engineering later.” Jack flicked through the channels until he landed on something he wanted to watch. “Ah, perfect.”

“ _John Wick_?” Mac asked from his side of the couch.

“This is a modern classic,” Jack said. “I love my man Bruce, but Keanu is an artist.”

“I know,” Mac said. “Just thought it was too modern for your 80s sensibilities.”

“No, no, no, see it’s a classic because of the feel of the action,” Jack said. “It’s a throwback to an earlier era when the fights felt real. None of that CGI splooge.”

Splooge? Which one of them was on medication again? “Right,” Mac said, eyes on the adorable beagle puppy John Wick had with him onscreen. “Whatever you say.”

“This is Keanu Reeves at his best,” Jack said.

“I dunno,” Mac said, hiding a smirk behind a yawn. “ _Bill and Ted_ is probably Keanu Reeves at his best. The ‘whoa!’ that launched a thousand memes.”

“You take that back,” Jack ordered.

Face straight, Mac met Jack’s eyes. “Whoa.”

Jack jabbed a finger at him. “If you weren’t recovering, I’d throw something at you.”

Mac turned back to the screen. “Uh huh.”

Anything else Jack had to say was lost when they reached _the_ scene. The one that always choked him up no matter how much he pretended it didn’t.

(And, if Mac was honest, it got him every time too.)

Which was why, when Bozer came in with enough food to feed every member of staff at Phoenix, Jack launched off the sofa scrubbing his eyes and Mac surreptitiously dabbed his eyes with the corner of the blanket.

“ _John Wick_ again, huh?” Bozer said from the kitchen.

“What? No!” Jack squawked.

“It’s the puppy, isn’t it?” Bozer said knowingly. “Every time I see that movie, I’m like ‘John, man, you better get revenge of every one of those S.O.Bs, otherwise I’ll jump into the screen and do it for you’.”

Mac smiled at the sound of them. “Hey, Boze,” he called from the couch. “What’s Keanu’s best movie?”

“Duh, _Bill and Ted_ ,” Bozer said. “Excellent!”

“Party on, dude,” Mac added. He relaxed against the pillow, allowing himself to drift off to the sound of John Wick delivering blood-soaked revenge.

“Millennials,” Jack muttered. “No appreciation for the finer things in life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! <3 I will be back asap with another fic. Until then, y'all can find me on [Tumblr!](https://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com/)
> 
> (Oh oh oh, and John Wick is an amazing franchise that everyone should watch and yes, I know Jack would love it and yes yes, I am planning a John Wick inspired fic for my next project)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter coming up on Tuesday :)
> 
> Until then, y'all can find me over at [Tumblr](https://breakfastteatime.tumblr.com/) :D


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